


The Black Death

by OctobersLily510



Series: The Marvel Court [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint/Natasha is Mentioned Only, F/M, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Happy Ending, M/M, Mentions of mass graves, Plague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26466322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctobersLily510/pseuds/OctobersLily510
Summary: Lady Pepper has been on his council since he had first been crowned King: before that she had been his advisor. He had seen her angry (mostly at him), frustrated, upset, tired, and even scared.But he’d never seen her like this.She was holding a parchment in her hands, the crumbling red seal betraying the fact she had just opened it. Her face was grey, her hands had a tremor.“Lady Pepper?”She looked at him gravely. “I’m sorry, sire: it’s a report from Dr. Banner. He’d been called to help the city physician three days ago.”The rest of the council was silent, and the King’s stomach churned.Pepper’s blue-grey eyes were serious. “They weren’t sure, but Banner has confirmed their suspicions. The plague has returned.”I first planned a story like this for this series in December 2019 - it did not age well. I've held it off as I didn't want to post something like this during the worst of the pandemic. Now that things are easing slightly, I hope you all enjoy this in some way and that it can help you smile today. Hoping everyone is safe and well <3
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: The Marvel Court [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666123
Comments: 9
Kudos: 68





	The Black Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I always planned to post stories in this series with young!Peter to introduce other characters (cause there is SO MANY!) and just to have some fluff. However, obviously this subject matter didn't have the best timing. I hope you all enjoy and please don't read if you feel you can't. I hope you are all safe and well!

“I swear Lady Pepper plans these meetings to be as tedious as possible as some sort of punishment.”

“And why in the world would you deserve such from your loyal Head of Council?”

“Oh, I never said I didn’t deserve it.”

General Winter laughed as the Iron King groaned and stretched in his chair, back aching from a long day of sitting in the aforementioned ‘tedious meetings.’ He was dressed in his formal robes, a circlet of gold on his head, and the state jewels - including the famous Arc Sapphires – on his chest.

Magnificent as he looked, his eyes were tried and face drawn with exhaustion: improvements were being made across the kingdom, and so Lady Pepper had had the King in meetings for three days now.

It didn’t help he’d avoided them all for at least the month before. 

Bucky chuckled as a servant bustled into the meeting room, replenishing the jugs of mead and pouring one each for the King and General. With a deep curtesy, she left the room with the message that the Council would be attending in five minutes, the Ambassadors with them.

The closing door concealed the King’s moan of despair.

“Winter, how far can a man fall from a window before death?”

Bucky gave a cursory glance to the grand stained-glass window the King was clearly referring to. He tried his best to sound apologetic.

“Not that far, sire.”

The King’s glare proved he failed.

***

“...the new trade routes have proven safer, and quicker these past few months...”

The Ambassador for Asgard was a very well-informed speaker: with many statistics, facts and figures in his updates.

It also made him very boring. Somewhere back in Asgard, King Thor was amused at Tony’s expense.

The King tried his best to look interested, but he could tell by the increasing amusement in Winter’s face, and the pointed looks that Rhodey was sending him, that he was not succeeding. Oh well.

“Your Majesty?”

He snapped to attention at Lady Pepper’s voice: an apology automatically on his lips.

The look on her face stopped him short.

Lady Pepper has been on his council since he had first been crowned King: before that she had been his advisor. He had seen her angry (mostly at him), frustrated, upset, tired, and even scared.

But he’d never seen her like this.

She was holding a parchment in her hands, the crumbling red seal betraying the fact she had just opened it. Her face was grey, her hands had a tremor.

“Lady Pepper?”

She looked at him gravely. “I’m sorry, sire: it’s a report from Dr. Banner. He’d been called to help the city physician three days ago.”

The rest of the council was silent, and the King’s stomach churned.

Pepper’s blue-grey eyes were serious. “They weren’t sure, but Banner has confirmed their suspicions. The plague has returned.”

It was only the fact he knew a King couldn’t show weakness was the reason he didn’t thrown up.

***

Things moved very quickly after that.

The ambassadors were instructed to write to their Kings and Queens explaining the situation, warning them to take precautions in their own kingdoms. The borders were shut and travel was forbidden. Winter had been sent out with the Army to ensure the crossings were secure.

Rhodey was in the city, coordinating the efforts of the evacuations: anyone who hadn’t had the plague before – particularly women and children – who could afford to or had friends and family that could help them were to be moved to the nearby country villages.

Dr. Banner and Jarvis were setting up a hospital in the Great Hall of the palace, and servant entrances were being used to bring victims and their households to try and contain the spread.

The King had dismissed the Council to their own affairs: he knew most of them were anxious to retire to their country estates and quite frankly: good riddance to them. They would only get in the way. Lady Pepper, of course, had insisted on staying: but as she had never had the Plague before, she was now in charge of ensuring the King’s country residences were open to those who had no family to take them in from the busy cities.

The King himself was preparing to ride out into the city to join Rhodey with the evacuation efforts, and to let the people see their King. He knew their main objective was to not allow panic to take hold.

But first.

He washed his hands thoroughly in lavender water, changed his robes and removed his circlet and jewels before making his way to Peter’s chambers. His little Omega, of course, had not even been born when the last cases of plague had been recorded in the city. He had already checked the records: he knew Queensvillage hadn’t had an outbreak in fifty years.

Peter was only six: he was more vulnerable to the plague’s effects.

The boy in question was in his chamber, where he had been taken immediately following Lady Pepper’s announcement. May was busily packing his things while Vison, sixteen years old and having already had the plague during the last outbreak, was trying to entertain (distract) him with mathematics lessons.

“Alpha!”

Peter ran to him as soon as he entered the room, and Tony swept him up into his arms, the sickening fear more pronounced as he buried his face the small boys neck: breathing in the scent of clean linen, fresh cut grass and rose water.

He was terrified. He was panicking. In a way he never had before. Outbreaks of disease had always been something he dreaded: no King wants to lose his people. But this one was worse than all the others had ever been: because he could lose his little Omega to this one, and any that came after, and all he would be able to do was watch helplessly.

“Hello little one.” He murmured, gently pulling back to meet his warm brown eyes, dancing with glee. He rarely got to see his Alpha during the day. “Auntie May says we’re going away Alpha! Where are we going?”

The King tried to smile. “Manor House, little one. Near the east border. It’s where we went last year for the Christmas season: remember the big lake where you went skating?”

His eyes lit up even more.

“Can we go skating again Alpha?”

Finally, this startled a laugh out of the King. “I’m afraid it’s summer little one: you won’t be able to go skating for a while yet! Swimming perhaps.”

Peter pouted good-naturedly, before pressing a little kiss to his Alpha’s cheek. “That’s OK! We can go riding instead, Alpha – and you can tuck me in and tell me bedtime stories and we could go fishing!”

This time, not even the joy in his Omega’s face could make him smile. “I’m sorry, little one.” He started, sitting down on the bed and re-arranging the Omega to cradle comfortably in his arms. “I can’t go with you this time.”

It was as painful as he had thought: the look of confusion and hurt twisting Peter’s expression. “But…but why Alpha…are you sending me away?”

“Yes, little one: but only for a little while. Did Auntie May tell you why you had to go?”

He shook his little head. “No, she just said we had to go because it wasn’t safe for us and wouldn’t be for a while?” He looked at the Alpha, eyes wide. “Why can’t you come with me?” His eyes filled with tears, and Tony closed his own briefly, so the boy didn’t see the pain reflected in his gaze.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He took the Omega’s hand in his and pressed a quick kiss to the chubby fingers. “There’s a disease in the kingdom: the plague. It can make people very sick, and sometimes those people who aren’t strong enough can die from it. You’re not big enough to be able to fight it properly if you catch it, so you have to go to the country so you will be safe and won’t catch it.”

Peter looked devastated. “What about you, Alpha? You can’t stay: you’ll die!” He cried out, burrowing into the man’s chest and shaking.

The King winced, cuddling the boy close and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Shhhh, sweetheart. It’s OK, Alpha’s already had the plague: I got better and now I can’t get it again.”

The young Omega sat back and looked up at him. “You promise, Alpha, you promise you won’t die?”

The King kissed his hand again. “I promise, sweetheart. I’m worried about you: and I need to be a good King and be there for our people, so that’s why you have to go to Manor House, so you can be safe. I promise, I swear, I will come and get you when it is safe, and not a minute after.”

Peter nodded gravely, his little face serious. “Alright, Alpha, I promise I’ll be safe. I want to look after our people too.”

The King clutched the boy to his chest, feeling his little arms come round and squeeze as tight as they could. “I know you do, baby. I’m so proud of you, and I’ll miss you so much.”

“Miss you too Alpha.”

***

Something was wrong.

Tony woke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding in his chest. Something niggled at the base of his skull. His hands were shaking, and he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Peter.” _Peter Peter Peter…_

He barely took the time to shrug on his robe as he almost ran through his outer chamber, down the short corridor towards Peter’s own. “Sire!?” He ignored Jarvis as he burst into the room without knocking. He’d merely cuddle Peter back to sleep if needed…please, let that be needed…

It wasn’t needed.

The room was lit by a single candle that he’d left burning when he’d tucked Peter in. The drapes around the bed had been pulled down hastily and were bundled on the floor. May - her hair loose and only in a nightdress and shawl – was crouched by the bed, her face pinched and eyes wide.

Because in the centre of the bed, Peter was thrashing and moaning: his skin flushed and sweaty, eyes glazed with fever. “Alpha.” He croaked out as Tony came forward, the dread that had woken him solidifying in his throat: so much so that he could barely breathe.

“Oh Gods no, my little one…” He fell on his knees next to the bed, taking Peter’s little hand - hot to the touch – in his and gently pushing the damp curls away from this forehead. “It’s OK, sweetheart, Alpha’s here.”

“Feel really hot Alpha. Don’t feel good.” He whimpered, turning towards Tony and reaching out his other hand.

“I heard him moaning about five minutes ago: it woke me up. I thought I was dreaming at first…” May was explaining shakily, dapping the boys head with a damp cloth.

“Get Bruce here _now_.” The King ordered Jarvis, who had faithfully followed his master. “I want the best surgeons and nurses here permanently, do you understand? And fresh water and food. No expense spared, Jarvis.”

“Of course, sire.”

The King barely spared a glance to the departing servant as the King returned his attention to the little Omega. “Am I going to die, Alpha?” He coughed as May tried to get him to drink some water, her hands trembling. “ _No_ , sweetheart.” He whispered, clutching his hands tightly: as if he could keep him alive with only his strength. “You are going be fine: you’re my Omega, you are going be just fine. Have I ever been wrong before?”

This got a weak little chuckle. “Uncle Bucky says you have been.”

“Well, Uncle Bucky is dirty liar: when he comes back I’ll put him in the stocks and you can throw some rotten food at him.” Tony was glad to see this brought another smile, but quickly frowned again concern and fear as he started to choke. May barely had time to grab a basin before he was sick.

Tony ran his fingers through the boy’s hair, murmuring comforts as the little body shook with convulsions. “It’s OK, little one. You’re alright.” He saw the stricken look on May’s face, and purposely put a smile on his. The last thing he wanted was for Peter to panic.

That would only make him worse.

“Your Majesty.” Bruce had arrived, walking to Peter without hesitation, nodding at the King briefly and gently moving May away with a few words. Tony was pleased. Bruce had never wasted time with pleasantries when there was work to be done.

“Well, little Prince, it seems you are getting more creative with disobeying your Alpha, hey?”

Peter gave a weak little chuckle. “Hi Uncle Bruce. I’ve missed you.”

The older apothecary smiled. “I missed you too, little Prince. But you didn’t have to go and get sick for me to visit you.” He gently started feeling for the glands in Peter’s throat and jaw. “Any trouble breathing, coughing?” His eyes skipped over the now-covered basin, but he said nothing. “His breathing is OK, despite everything. He has a fever and has been coughing on and off. He was fine this morning, but got a little tired in the late afternoon. I thought he was just sad because of having to leave tomorrow.” May explained, wringing her hands together now that she had nothing to occupy them.

Tony gently kissed the clammy hand he was holding. He’d seemed fine when he’d gone to see him: how hadn’t he noticed? What kind of Alpha was he?

Peter’s pained groan broke through his self-deprecating spiral, and the Alpha’s eyes darted to where Bruce was now pressing on the boy’s inner arm, and Tony automatically put a hand out to stop him, instincts crying out, before he paused and lowered his hand quickly when he saw what Bruce had evidently been searching for.

Buboes, already dark with the disease.

There could be no doubt.

“Alpha?” Tony snapped his head up to meet Peter’s gaze, and his heart clenched as he realised he had tears in his eyes. “Can you tell me another story please?”

Tony wanted to cry. Then be sick. Then somehow create a way to fight and kill a disease no one knew anything about.

Instead, he shifted around the bed to Peter’s other side as Bruce went to work making a poultice to bathe the buboes in an effort to help them burst. He displaced May, which he didn’t particularly care about and would most certainly be hearing about later, and settled gently on the bed with his arm underneath Peter’s head that was now leaning on his chest. He tucked his knees up gently so he was pseudo-holding him. It was the best he could do.

And it killed him.

“Once upon a time…there was a brave Omega prince, the bravest in all the land…”

***

Lady Pepper had to drag the King out of the room three days later, and she wants it down on record that she really didn’t want to.

“Your Majesty, please. Your people need you. Your kingdom needs you. I’m begging you, please, you must ride out today. Bucky is back and he and Rhodey has arranged everything – an hour, that is all I am asking. They know Peter is sick and they are worried - they need to see you: they need reassurance.”

“And I need him healthy again, Pepper, but that’s not happened yet either.” The King in question bit back, running a hand through his unwashed hair while he paced in front of her, already annoyed that she had dragged him into the antechamber connected to Peter’s room. He had not left his Omega’s side since he had woken up that night, and as far as he was concerned, he wouldn’t be leaving until Peter could leave with him.

But Pepper would not be dissuaded. “Your Majesty, I understand…but you are a King before you are an Alpha and...”

“Who says!?” He growled, spinning to face her in a rage. “I am an Alpha: I am PETER’S ALPHA before anything else, and I will not hear anything to the contrary. My people will have to wait.”

“Your Majesty…”

“ _Thank you,_ Lady Pepper. If that is all.”

He was already opening the door to Peter’s room. “I’m sorry, little one. I’m back n…”

“You have to go.” Peter’s voice was thin and raspy, his face pale, but his conviction strong.

The King knelt at the bedside, gently moving the dish that contained a merely-nibbled lunch to the side. “Shhhhh, it’s OK. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

“No, Alpha, you have to go. Our people need you.”

Behind him, Pepper sighed. “Thank you, Peter.” It sounded like a prayer.

It probably was.

Tony shook his head, taking Peter’s hand. “No, sweetheart, I’ll be here until you are better. You don’t need to worry about anything other than that.”

“But I do.” Peter struggled to sit up, and Pepper, in a rare moment of tenderness around anyone other than Peter, moved forward to place another pillow under his head. “Alpha.” The little boy grabbed the King’s hand in his own two small ones: slightly shaking but grip sure. “Our people need you, and they need me. But I can’t go, so you have to – you always said our people had to come first. That’s what being a good King is about. You taught me that because you were taught that. Please Alpha, you have to go out and see them.” He paused as a cough shook through his small frame. May, who had been eating her own lunch quietly to the side, leaned forward with a goblet of water for him, the concern from the first night Peter had taken ill now permanently etched into her features.

Tony always thought that he could never love the little Omega more, and every day, he was proved wrong.

“I can take care of him, Your Majesty. You know I can. He will be napping soon anyway.” May piped up, gently soothing the little boy’s hair back with a pointed look.

Lady Pepper took a step forward, an expectant look on her face. “Your Majesty, shall we?”

The King sighed, pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “One hour.” He promised, looking into the chocolate brown eyes that were as familiar to him as his own. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, Alpha.”

***

Of course, it was never going to be one hour.

Tony met Bucky and Rhodey at the stables, their horses saddled and ready to go. He had stopped in his chambers at Lady Pepper’s insistence to change his robes and splash water on his face, but that was all she was getting.

He was on a time limit, thank you.

But he hadn’t seen Bucky or Rhodey in the three days since Peter took ill, and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw them waiting for him. Rhodey holding his horse, Utopia (U for short) tacked up and ready to go. “Your Majesty.” Bucky bowed his head from where he is already in the saddle. “How is the Prince?”

“No better, but no worse, so I suppose I am grateful for that.” He swung himself into the saddle, gently patting U’s neck as he wickered in greeting. “What is the plan, Rhodey? My people may need to see me but I do not wish to be away from Peter for any longer than I have to.”

“Of course sire, we are merely taking the main streets around the city, and stopping in at the church, where the relief efforts are based. We return here and will accompany you to the Great Hall to see the hospital that Vision and young Wanda are running when Bruce is tending to the Prince.”

“Very well. Lead on, gentlemen.”

***

The ride out into the city was eerie – the King was by no means a distant monarch; he often rode into the cities and towns of his kingdom to greet his people. He was a wild Princeling in his younger days, but as he had aged – and found Peter – he had become a much beloved King. He was used to crowds lining the streets when he rode in, children waving and running to catch a glimpse of him, ladies swooning and cooing over Peter, and gentlemen cheering and shouting.

There was none of that now.

The streets were empty and quiet, so much so that he could hear the clink of U’s bit in his mouth. There was no hustle and bustle of the marketplace, no street sellers shouting or carriages rolling past. No children’s songs or men’s gambling. No crowds.

Houses were boarded up and painted with red crosses – words of prayer written with chalk above them if the occupants were literate. There were a few lonely souls walking the streets, out on errands for medicine or food. If they could find any.

“The King!” “His Majesty!”

The whispers slowly made their way towards the King’s ears, shortly followed by the people responsible. Tony was touched at the despair and grief on their faces shifting: not quite to happiness, perhaps, but a smile and lightening of their eyes as they caught sight of their monarch.

Peter was right, as usual. It was good that he had come.

“Your Majesty, how are you? How is the Prince? I pray for him daily.”

He smiled at the young woman who had spoken. She was pale but healthy-looking, wrapped tightly in a thin shawl. Without prompting, the King removed his own robe to wrap around her shoulders. His tunic was already twice as thick as anything she was wearing. “I am well, thank you young lady, and he is…still recovering.” He tried to keep the smile on his face.

It seemed to do the trick, she blushed and it brought some much needed colour to her cheeks.

The others who had gathered stepped forward as U moved on, giving their well wishes to the King’s health, Peter’s health, and their hopes that the plague would pass.

“We are going to the church, to check on the relief efforts. Please, you may join us.” He told one of the men, lines of grief written plain on his face and a young boy holding onto his hand. The man shook his head. “We have just come from there Your Highness, they are running low. They are prioritising those who are sick.” The man’s expression crumbled for a moment, and the boy hid his face in his father’s leg. “My wife died last week. We no longer qualify.”

Tony frowned. This wasn’t right. “Winter?”

Bucky too was frowning. “I’ll head back to palace, send to Lady Pepper for more supplies. We should have been informed sooner.”

With a quick nod to the King, he turned his horse and cantered through the streets, taking the quickest way back to the palace.

Tony turned back to the man and son. “Come with us to the church, we shall get this sorted.”

The man’s eyes shone with gratitude, and he bowed his head in respect. “God bless your Majesty.”

Tony smiled. “Would you like to ride up with me, young sir?” He’s addressing the little boy now, who could only be a year or two younger than Peter. An Alpha, though, judging by his scent. Him and his father both. The mother may have been their only Omega relative, then: no wonder they were so lost. Alpha’s cannot function without their Omegas:’ be that family, friend or mate.

The little boy nods, his face lighting up in delight. Just like Peter’s when he takes him on rides. Tony shook the thought out of his head and smiled down as he takes the boy from his father’s arms, nodding to acknowledge the man’s thanks as he adjusts the boy to sit comfortably in front of him, his hands tangled in U’s mane.

“Lead on, Rhodey.” The King nods to his trusted guard as he gently squeezes his legs to encourage U into a slow walk, letting the group of townspeople follow along as they head to the church.

The visit to the Church takes longer than they thought, considering Tony has to fake smile while Father Thompson stumbles through an explanation on why supplies are running low. It doesn’t take a genius - or a King - to see the expensive clothes he wears or how one of the parish woman is healthier-looking than the rest. The fake smile does not last long.

He is dealt with very quickly, and mercilessly. The King has spent the last three days feeling helpless: now there is something he can do. Something he can fix.

He spends more time that he had originally planned with the townspeople, speaking to them and their children: asking what they need and assuaging their fears. It is long enough that Winter returns to find them a few streets from the Church, visiting the pit graves that the victims have had to be placed in. There are two of them and a third being dug as they speak to the head gravedigger, as he explains that each pit already holds at least fifty bodies each.

This is grave news, but fortunately, it also means that this outbreak is not as devastating as the last.

The King is inclined to disagree, thinking of his sick little Omega at home; but he says nothing. He remembers that over 20,000 people died across the kingdom during the last outbreak ten years before: it had grown out of control before the physicians could tell what they were dealing with.

“Your Highness, those at the Palace Hospital are ready to receive you, if you are ready?” Winter interrupts the grave-digger’s story of his experience with the last outbreak. Tony shoots him a grateful look. He does not wish to be rude...much: but he is anxious to get back to Peter now. Even knowing he is in the same vicinity will be enough.

The gravedigger’s and remaining villagers doffed their caps as the King rode out with Rhodey and Winter, and a few cheers went up. The presence of their King had invigorated them, and the monarch’s smile was genuine as he rode away. Peter had been right, which did not surprise Tony in the slightest. This had been the right thing to do.

The visit of the Palace Hospital was brief, because the people brought here were sick and in need of treatments and rest, and the excitement of their monarch visiting may be too much for them. Dr. Banner was in attendance, and the King could not help but immediately ask for any updates on Peter’s condition. “The same as it has been for the past days, Your Highness, no better and no worse. I left him sleeping after giving him another poultice bath to encourage the buboes to burst.”

The King bit back his impatience. Bruce looked exhausted: and he had every right to, running a hospital as well as tending to Peter at all hours. It was a thankless task: because any contact with the buboes caused pain to the victim, and Peter was no different. Instead, Tony clasped his arm and nodded. “Thank you, my friend. I appreciate everything you are doing for our kingdom...and for the Prince.” The Royal Physician blushed and ducked his head in modest acknowledgment.

The King turned to Rhodey and Winter. “I believe that is all for the day, gentlemen?”

Rhodey bowed. “Indeed, Your Highness. All of Lady Pepper’s requests have been met.” His eyes twinkled at the old joke. Everyone knew that the King was not the only one who ran this Court. Tony himself had a little chuckle to himself. “Then if that is all.” He turned and barely acknowledged the bows of the servants as he left the Great Hall, dark and silent except for the groans of the suffering patients.

It was finally time to return to his Omega.

***

There was someone in the room.

Tony has been holding Peter’s hand as he told the slowly dozing Omega about his day in the village, embellishing or repeating himself when he realised Peter was slowly falling asleep to the sound of his voice.

But now he could sense someone in the room.

There had been no sound, no voice...but there was a presence there that hadn’t been there before. His free hand slowly reached down to find the dagger at his hip. He could feel his muscles tense and contract as his Alpha instincts awakened. Alpha’s were designed to protect their mates, pups and pack: a cornered Alpha with a vulnerable mate would be a dangerous opponent, even without the dagger or years of weapons training.

He sucked in a break to call for the guards.

There was a sword at his neck.

“You are getting slower, Your Majesty. Clearly I have been away too long. You have been neglecting your training.”

All at once, the tension left the room. The King chuckled as he turned to greet his Spymaster. “Widow, a pleasure as always.”

Natasha Romanoff, the whispered Black Widow who most believed was a myth and almost all believed was a witch. Even the King himself sometimes found himself wondering. But her past was her own, and a close guarded secret. Tony merely thanked the Gods that she was on his side. She was a formidable opponent, and an excellent Spymaster, with a web of informants across the country: and outside of it, he was sure.

“I was not expecting you for another week: is there something amiss?” He looked at the woman, her red hair messily braided and a dark cloak hiding the sword she had returned to her hip. She had been travelling, and travelling hard.

She looked at him and smiled gently. “Yes, I received news of the Prince.” She gently moved forward into the candlelight and whispered softy in her native tongue. The King only caught ‘Petya,’ the name only she called him.

Peter mumbled and blinked awake, his pale face lightening in joy when he saw her. “Nat! You’re here. Did you come to see me?”

“Of course, Little Prince. I had heard of your sickness and came as fast as I could. I have medicine from the East, which will help.” She slipped a dark leather pouch from beneath her cloak and pressed it into the King’s hands. He frowned as he opened it, looking at the dried herbs. There was a mix of them in different packets: he could identify the garlic and ginger, but the others eluded him. He eyed them suspiciously.

“I have heard of many different cures for the plague Natasha, every doctor swears he has the answer and all are different. Are you sure these will help? I will not subject him to quack medicine.”

The Black Widow paused in her murmurings to the Prince and side-eyed the King. “I know well the difference between charlatans and physicians. My sources are trustworthy: I would not gamble the Prince’s life on this Tony. You know me better.”

He paused, then nodded, contrite. “Forgive me, of course: I know you would never allow harm to come to him.”

She nodded once in acknowledgement. “The garlic, clove and the green one - oregano - are to be made into a paste for the infected areas. The ginger and pink flowers - echinacea - are for tea: brewed alone and sweetened with honey, given twice a day until they run out. They are to help his body fight the illness. We have no need of useless talismans or charms.”

Tony smiled and took her hand, clasping it tightly. “Once again, I am in your debt. Thank you, Natasha.”

“Thanks Auntie Nat. I can’t wait to feel b-b-better.” A choked little voice came from the bed, and Tony released Natasha’s hand as she moved to lean over the Prince again. “Hush now, Petya, you must save your strength.” Along with words in Russian that he assumed were endearments. He moved to the other side of the bed and watched carefully as Peter finally dropped off to sleep.

“Thank you.” He spoke into the silence, barely even broken by Peter’s unsteady breaths. “You have no idea how hard it has been to sit back and watch him suffering.”

“I would hardly describe you to be ‘sitting back.’” She answered dryly. “My sources have told me you have not left his bedside: nor stopped tending to him as devotedly as any nursemaid to her charge.”

The King chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know well your ‘sources,’ Widow. You can stop asking Winter and Rhodey for gossip any time now.”

She laughed quietly. “Then what would they do for fun?”

He smiled, but said nothing back, gently pulling the bedclothes up to Peter’s shoulders to prevent any heat escaping.

“He will be fine.” Her voice was final.

“For all of the Gods sake, I hope so.”

***

It took another two days of administering Natasha’s treatment for Peter’s fever to break, and later that day, for the buboes under his skin to burst.

It was what they had all been hoping for: but it was a bittersweet victory.

Peter screamed and wept as Bruce and Nat cleaned and drained the burst buboes on his arm, thrashing and wailing, his eyes glazed with the pain. Tony was holding him...holding him down and trying to comfort him through his tears as the boy begged: “Please Alpha, please make it stop! It hurts it hurts, please Alpha please!”

“Shhhh, little one, it’s OK, it’s OK, it will be over soon. I promise sweetheart, you’re so brave.”

He cradled him as best he could from one side. May was by the bed, bringing equipment and clean dressings when Nat and Bruce asked for it, and wringing her hands in distress when they didn’t.

Tony swore that for as long as he lived, he would never, ever forget the horror of this. Every instinct inside his mind was rebelling: his Omega was in pain, and he could do nothing.

Eventually, the shock and pain caused Peter to pass out, and Tony was almost grateful, if it meant he was a little more at peace while Nat and Bruce finished their grim task.

Finally, Bruce looked up at him and he tied the last bandage. His face pale and drawn. “That’s it done, Your Majesty. He should begin to feel better in a day or two, we’ll continue with the teas and plenty of rest. We’ll change his dressings twice a day, and by the grace of the Gods, he will be fine.”

“The Gods have nothing to do with it.” Tony rasped out, his voice croaky with trying to comfort Peter over his screams. He reached over to take Nat’s hands in his own, kissing them both. “I owe you, Widow, more than I ever have. Name any reward you care for, and it will be done.”

She smiled gently, squeezing his hands in hers.

“It is no trouble: I love the Prince as my own, I’d never see harm come to him.”

She paused and took a breath. “But I suppose this is a good time to ask for your permission to marry.”

Tony blinked.

And again.

And again.

Bruce elbowed him.

“Yes! Yes, of course: that is wonderful news! You have my permission to marry whomever you please: may I ask who the lucky person is?”

Here Widow smiled. “You know him well, sire, he is your Captain of the Archers.”

Tony blinked.

And again.

May kicked him this time.

“Fantastic! Clint never even mentioned he was thinking of marriage. Of course, you both have my permission and my blessings. When the plague has passed, you may be married in the palace chapel. I’d be honoured.”

Natasha smiled gratefully, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Thank you, sire. We appreciate it.”

“Can I be there? I’d like to walk you down the aisle Auntie Nat.” Peter murmured from the bed, his eyes still half-closed and glazed, his face pale but smiling. Still smiling despite his pain.

The Spymaster’s expression morphed into one of genuine delight as she turned to press a kiss to the boy’s sweaty forehead. “Of course, my Prince, I would be honoured. You must rest so you are well enough. I will have no other to give me away.”

“Mm-kay.” Peter’s eyes closed as he drifted back to sleep. Tony smiled fondly, watching him snuggle back into his pillow.

It would take time. For Peter to recover, for their people to recover. For their kingdom to recover. But they would. As they had done many times before. Suffering was always followed by healing, and healing would always be followed by happiness.

Everything was going to be OK.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed, and thank you so much for reading and giving this a chance! Please don't worry@ the wedding story will be coming up: I know a lot of people are waiting for it so want to make sure it is everything you guys are hoping for! If you have any ideas or suggestions for stories in this series, please feel free to comment them :)


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